


Hole 2

by jadey36



Series: Hole [2]
Category: Robin Hood (TV)
Genre: Fetish, M/M, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-31 10:33:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadey36/pseuds/jadey36
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robin and Guy are still trapped in a well doing naughty things to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hole 2

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Livejournal Slashfest 2012.

**Hole 2**

“You know,” Robin says, sliding his fingers from Guy’s hole and smiling into the well’s gloom, “this could turn out to be a long, and increasingly cold, night.”

“Your point being?” Guy asks, jiggling both with agitation at Robin’s sudden withdrawal of digits and the fact he is still desperate to relieve himself.

“My point,” Robin says, “is that we don’t want things to be over too quickly, leaving us with the rest of the night either trying to kill each other, or playing a very boring game of _I Spy_ where everything begins with the letter D.”

“D?”

“Yes, for dark,” Robin explains. “Or in your case, desperate.”

“Then what do you want us to do about it?” Guy asks, savagely yanking up his leathers and thinking that perhaps he should resume trying to kill Robin Hood after all.

“I want you to start by calming down,” Robin says.

“That’s easy for you to say.” Guy swings round to face the outlaw. “You’re not the one close to wetting himself.”

“Actually, that’s not quite true,” Robin says. “Feel.”

Robin grabs Guy’s hand and eases it between the lacings of his breeches. 

“You’re as hard as a rock,” Guy exclaims.

“Yes, I am. And I’m also a little bit damp.” 

Robin drags Guy’s hand down until it is inside his braies. 

“Ugh! Is that your spunk, Hood?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not some wet-nosed whelp, Guy. I do know how to control myself.”

“Then what is—”

“When you were talking about needing to go, I thought I might try and empathise with you a little.”

“What, by pissing yourself?”

“It was only a little bit.”

“You mean there’s more to come?”

“Absolutely.”

Even in the half-gloom, Guy can make out Robin’s wicked smile.

“So,” Robin says, dragging the word out. “I was thinking that maybe we could...you know.”

“No,” Guy snaps. “I don’t know. All I know is that we’re trapped in this godforsaken hole, and that by the time someone comes to our rescue we might well be drowning in our own piss.”

“If that’s going to be the case,” Robin says. “Why don’t we at least try to enjoy it?”

“By doing what exactly?” Guy asks, the need to go so acute now he is actively thinking about crossing his legs.

“By sharing the experience.”

“Sharing?” Guy’s eyes widen as he realises what Robin’s hinting at, or at least what he thinks Robin is hinting at.

“Come on, Guy. Don’t tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind since we’ve been down here.”

“It hasn’t crossed my mind, Hood. And don’t call me Guy.”

“What should I call you then? Sir my-backside-is-aching-for-Robin’s-cock Gisborne? Or perhaps, Sir I-want-Robin-to-ram-his thing-where-the-sun-don’t-shine Gisborne?”

“I’ll ram _you_ in a minute,” Guy snarls.

Robin waggles his eyebrows. “That was the general idea.”  

Guy fumbles with his belt buckle, muttering curses and threatening to burn down every village within a fifty-mile radius of the ‘bloody Treeton mines’.

“Here, let me help,” Robin says, grabbing the offending belt buckle. 

Guy relents. He needs all his concentration just to keep hold of his increasingly aching bladder. 

However, instead of doing up the buckle, Robin flips the two pieces of belt aside and pulls down Guy’s leathers along with his linen braies. He encircles Guy’s cock with a slightly trembling hand.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Guy asks. “Have you forgotten that I need to—ah, ah.”

The outlaw gives Guy’s cock a gentle squeeze. 

“Please,” Guy says, close to begging now. “Don’t do that.”

“Now,” Robin says, his voice husky with desire. “I know you’re desperate, and I know that when you let this lot go you’re probably going to piss like a warhorse.  But just to please me, do you think you could manage to stay exactly where you are the whole time it’s going on.” Robin presses into Guy’s chest.

Guy’s heart thumps wildly at the thought. “You’re not seriously suggesting...are you out of your tiny outlaw mind? What about when rescue comes? What the hell is it going to look like?”

“It’s going to look like we’ve both been sitting in water at the bottom of a well,” Robin says, trying to ignore the feel of Guy’s twitching cock on his inner thigh and his own mighty arousal.

“What do you mean both?” Guy asks. “There’s no way you’re going to—”

“Aww, come on,” Robin cuts across him. “Don’t be a spoilsport. I’m letting you go first after all.”

Guy doesn’t answer, is too busy trying to hold back the tide. There is no way on earth he is going to do what Robin has just asked him to do. He’d sooner turn around and quietly piss in his own leathers. 

The moment he thinks that, of course, the floodgates open.

Robin groans and pulls Guy closer, clearly enjoying the sensation of a warm flow running down his legs.

Aghast, Guy grits his teeth.

“That can’t be it, surely?” Robin says, nibbling Guy’s neck.

“Get off me, you dirty, filthy outlaw,” Guy snarls, slamming his back into the wall, and adding another splash of piss to his already wet leathers. “You come one step closer and I swear I’ll kill you with my bare hands.” 

“I spy,” Robin says in a singsong voice, “with my little eye, something beginning with D.”

“Dark,” Guy snaps. “Now piss off.”

“Unfortunate choice of words, Guy.”

With nowhere to go, Guy cannot escape as Robin steps forward, clutches Guy’s upper arms and presses his lips firmly to Guy’s lips.

Guy’s not been been kissed by a man before. Strangely, if he can ignore the prickle of beard and the distinctly masculine odour, Guy is finding the kiss rather sexy. 

Without thinking too long and hard about it, Guy parts Robin’s lips with his tongue. 

Robin’s hand sneaks back into Guy’s leathers. “Now,” he murmurs, “where were we?”

Guy gets it. No matter how dirty and degraded it might be, Robin wants this.  Besides, Guy is now past the point of no return, helpless to ignore the call of nature any longer.

With a deep sigh, he lets go. 

Robin stops kissing him, simply buries his head into Guy’s shoulder, almost mewling with delight. 

Eventually, Guy is finished, the relief so great he almost makes the mistake of thanking Robin. He clears his throat.

“Robin, I—”

“You called me Robin.” Robin lightly kisses Guy’s firm jaw.

“So?”

“So, that’s the first nice thing you’ve said to me since we fell into this hole.”

“And it’ll be the last if you don’t...”

“If I don’t what?”

“Reciprocate.” 

Guy grabs hold of Robin’s exposed cock and buries it inside his leathers. 

“Your turn,” he says, smirking.

Robin closes his eyes, concentrates.

“Can’t,” he says after a protracted silence.

“What do you mean, can’t?” Guy asks

“I mean I can’t.”

“Then let me help you.” Guy eases Robin out of both his leathers and his arms.  “Let’s play _I Spy_.”

“How can we—”

“I spy,” Guy interrupts, “with my little eye, something beginning with W.”

“W?”

“Yes,” Guy says, “W. For water, for wet, warm, wanton, watery, running—”

“Running doesn’t start with W,” Robin protests.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Guy utters.  “Will you just get on with it and return the favour.”

“Whisper those words in my ear and I will,” Robin says.

Guy complies.

Robin remembers that it rained yesterday, that the camp roof leaked and that Much put a couple of pails near to their sleeping area in order to catch the drips.  Robin remembers the sound of the rain hitting the wooden pails – drip, drip, drip. Robin doesn’t think he should piss over Guy’s hand, but he does. Guy doesn’t seem to mind. 

When he is finished, Robin steps away. It is too dark in the hole now to see Guy’s face properly, but there is enough light to make out the whites of Guy’s teeth.

“Now what?” Robin asks.

“Now,” Guy says, “we’ll move onto the letter M.”

“M?”

“For masturbate. You’d like to watch me thresh the corn wouldn’t you, Robin?  After all, you did say we had hours to kill. No point in us getting to the grand finale too quickly, is there?”

Robin grins. “Absolutely not.”

Guy places a hand on either side of Robin’s head and kisses him, fiercely. Then he removes one hand and slips it into his wet leathers. “Same deal as with the pissing stuff?” he asks.

“Same deal.” Robin presses into Guy’s chest and nuzzles his neck relishing the feeling of Guy’s warm skin beneath his lips.

“No need to wait for me,” Guy whispers into Robin’s ear.

Robin does not need any encouragement and quickly fingers his own stiff cock, slipping it between Guy’s willingly open legs. 

Guy grins. Robin had been right. It was going to be a long, and increasingly cold, night. 

It was also going to be a very wet one.

**to be continued...**


End file.
